minjoo-centric.

//

“you didn’t have to do that.”

she hates the little brown dots decorating her face, the way they line perfectly across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones.

she hates her freckles but i adore them, i know for a fact that they’re charming, appealing to my eyes. i never understand why she hates them. 

perched on her back, i try to move my body, but just a flinch and it literally feels like there’s lightning strike tearing through my sore, bruised muscles. i successfully hold back a groan from the back of my throat. even though i’m sure she knows how much pain i’m currently in, i try to stow them away.

i sigh inaudibly as i surrender my weight against her back, my arms wrapped loosely around her neck as i once again rest my chin on her shoulder. i let my eyes roam the darkening skies splashed with a crimson red hue, the stars haven’t come out yet.

“i did what i had to do. they won’t disturb you anymore.” i retorted in a tired tone.

my body is not in the best condition right now, just talking feels like i’m using a humongous amount of energy. everywhere hurts, but it’s alright. i guess i can say i’m used to it, because believe it or not, i am.

“and look what that got you. all beaten and bruised, you can’t even walk on your own.” she replied firmly in a slight admonishing tone, but i stay unfazed by her cold response, humming lazily afterwards in acknowledgement.

she hates the moles which beautifully etch on her flawless, porcelain skin. she has two on her left cheek, another two on her left forearm— which, if you pinch in between, resembles an elephant. 

she hates her moles, but i find them endearing.

“i can walk, i just wanted you to carry me.” i admitted nonchalantly.

i start to play with her faded-grey ponytail, twirling the lustrous strands around my fingers. from the corner of my eyes, i can see her briefly shooting me a pointed look. i let my a corner of my lips curl up in a slothful smile as a response. 

personally, i really love it when she sports a ponytail. she used to hate it though, claiming that tying her hair is a pain. i once told her she’d look good with her hair up regardless, she disagreed. but the following day and the next, she started sporting ponytails. at least she heeded my words. 

she wears glasses: circle-rimmed ones, she doesn’t think she’s attractive, but i never fail to tell her that she takes my breath away every single day. it frustrates me that she doesn’t realise how beautiful she is, inside out.

“we could’ve just walked away, min.” she’s referring to the fight which i was involved in earlier, and she’s right, we could’ve walked away.

but i wasn’t about to let unsophisticated s run their petty little mouths to verbally abuse the people whom i care for, especially sakura. so i went ballistic and ended up in a brawl. and to conclude, i had those s running for their lives. 

nevermind my battered body, what matters is that they’re never going to harrass her ever again.

“what? and let them continue to bother you? over my dead body.” i scoff with a hint of vexation, my breath blowing a few strands of her baby hair.

as she walked, i stare at our silhouettes on the concrete floor, forehead creasing as my lips pursed.

she claims that she isn’t good at anything. does she know she’s a good liar? i doubt she knows that either.

“i just don’t understand why you would do all these things for me, protecting me.” she glances at me and frowns.

she halts her steps to adjust her hold on me, securing her hands under my knees as i push myself up. i’m thinking she did it on purpose, to trigger the pain in my bruised areas. well, she succeeded, because i had to grit my teeth to bear the sharp pains literally piercing in my joints. 

she continues walking a second later, seemingly waiting for my response. and with another sigh, i reply.

“what’s there not to understand? it’s because you know damn well i care deeply for you. i’d do anything to protect you. and honestly, i’d beat those jerks up over and over again if i have to.” i affirmed, boring a glare through the back of her head, because the fact that she underestimates my feelings for her is provoking. 

i love her more than she thinks, sadly she doesn’t realise it either. but i know she’s just scared and self-conscious. she needs time and i respect that.

“...but you still don’t have to-“

“say whatever you want. i’ll keep protecting you regardless.” i huffed, snuggling against the curve of her neck as i wrap my arms around her a little tighter, wanting to inhale her intoxicating scent forever.

she shivers, and i smile as she tightens her hold on me. for someone as petite as her, she’s pretty strong for being able to carry me. she could’ve dropped me but she didn’t. she cares for me too, she doesn’t say it but she expresses it in a much subtle way that’s just... her.

“you’re awfully stubborn.” she stated the obvious.

and i chuckle because it’s true and apparent, yet she tolerates me— my stubbornness.

“you should know that’s how i am,” i punctuated, releasing a small yawn.

“when it comes to the people i love, i become the most stubbor